Snowed In
by gomababe
Summary: Inspired by the second lot of Snowfall the South Coast of England has seen in as many weeks 0-o. The apocalypse is nigh... rated just because something winds up drunk


A/N: I'll get the story as to why Canada can see the Haggis up later, I need to copy/paste it from Deviant art.

...

Well, this was going to be an interesting few days. England looked out of his window at the snowy landscape that greeted him and snorted,

"Laughing stock of Northern Europe again." He muttered darkly as he let the curtain drop from his hand. It wasn't that England didn't like snow; it was just that his citizens in the Southern half of the country seemed to have forgotten how to deal with the stuff... again. He winced as his mobile phone started blasting 'Flower of Scotland'. Great, now Scotland was going to have his merry way with him verbally. The nation picked up the phone hesitantly,

"Yes Angus, I am very well aware of the fact that it amuses you that my transport systems have ground to a complete stop over an inch of snow!" he snapped. He frowned when a much quieter voice answered,

"Actually England, it's Canada." England wracked his brains trying to work out who was calling when the voice gave a quiet sigh, "Matthew... Alfred's brother." He explained patiently. England's brain finally clicked as he gave a weak chuckle,

"Matthew lad, I'm so sorry I didn't quite catch you at first." He laughed lamely, "Why are you using Scotland's mobile?" he asked when he finally put two and two together. Canada sighed a little,

"It's the only phone that works, my battery's died and the power has completely gone so we can't use the landline." He explained. England looked vaguely worried, were things really that bad up there? He shook his head,

"Well that's plausible enough. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?" he asked. Canada sighed,

"Well, we kind of need your help to be honest. I came over for a quick visit, Alfred insisted on following me here and now he's driving Uncle Scotland up the wall because we're snowed in, eh?" England winced at the background sounds of yelling and something breaking,

"Oh, maple. Uncle Scotland put that down! Sorry England I'll call you back later." Canada said hurriedly as he hung up. England blinked a little then sighed heavily. Honestly, was Alfred _trying_ to get himself killed? Winding Scotland up in an enclosed space was just asking for trouble, and by the sounds of it his oldest brother had had enough,

"Oh well, I hope the roads aren't too awful." He muttered as he set about looking out a few bottles of whisky and several spare packets of cigarettes Scotland had left the last time he'd visited. No doubt Scotland would probably need them at this stage.

...

England was nothing if not stubborn. After gathering what supplies he thought he would need England set off up to his brother's house using the roads he could use as a nation rather than trying to catch a plane or driving up. Still, he had not counted on the snow getting quite so deep.

When England finally struggled to Scotland's door, he was greeted to the sight of America standing at the window, knocking on it in frustration in nothing more than a vest and pair of boxers. He whirled round when England cleared his throat,

"IGGY!" he cried, rushing over and clinging onto his father figure, "Scotland's trying to kill me." He whined, looking up at England with a boyish pout. England sighed as he untangled himself from the younger nation, brushing himself off,

"Well you would wind Scotland up when you're stuck here wouldn't you?" he asked, but relenting upon seeing just how cold Alfred looked, "Come on, let's see if bringing Scotland a fresh supply of cigarettes will calm him down enough to let you back in." He lifted the flap of the letterbox and shouted through it, knowing that if he knocked it would likely be totally ignored,

"Scotland open this goddamned door, it's freezing out here and I'm soaked!" the door opened and Canada gave his father an apologetic smile,

"Sorry about that England, but I think nicotine withdrawal's finally gotten to Uncle Scotland. He's sulking in the kitchen." He looked over to his brother, "You can come in as well so long as you don't start winding us both up again." He warned. America glared at his brother,

"But Mattie, I didn't do anything." He whined, "I mean sure I was a bit over enthusiastic, but knocking over a bottle is nothing to get so worked up over." England groaned,

"Don't tell me you knocked over something valuable." He muttered. Canada managed a weak chuckle,

"It was uncle Scotland's last bottle of 70 year whisky." He explained, "Needless to say Scotland got a little... upset about that." England groaned again and gave America a sharp look,

"Well, it's a good thing I managed to find another five bottles of the stuff in my house." He said, producing the bags and handing them to Canada, who took them gratefully,

"Thanks England." He said before turning to his brother, "You should probably go upstairs and get some clothes on before you freeze." America glowered at his 'traitorous' brother before grumbling and heading up the stairs to get changed. Canada watched him go for a moment before looking to England again, "Sorry to be such a bother, but Alfred will actually listen to you." He explained. England waved it off as he shrugged his coat off,

"Not a problem, as soon as you mentioned that America had followed you over I would have come up anyway just to save the idiot from getting himself killed." He replied. Canada grinned as he started to walk to the kitchen,

"Oh, by the way England, watch your feet. Uncle Scotland's haggis managed to drink most of the spilt whisky before we could clean it up and it's kind of staggering around tripping people up and bumping into things." He warned, just as England tripped up over said creature. The older nation grumbled a bit,

"Thanks for the warning." He muttered dryly before picking himself up and going into the kitchen with Canada, but not before giving the furry little thing a swift, but gentle, kick.

Scotland looked over his shoulder from the fireplace when Canada came into the kitchen, with England in tow,

"Well aren't you just the most stubborn wee git the day?" Scotland remarked dryly, "I'd hae though ye'd hae wanted to stay in bed after getting a whole inch of snow overnight." England bristled slightly,

"Well I had to be since you're being so insistent on killing off the world's only remaining super power." He replied, "and if that's the kind of welcome I'm going to get then I might as well take the whisky and these cigarettes back home with me after Alfred gets changed." That got Scotland's attention,

"Well why didn't ye say so wee one?" he exclaimed happily, getting up and getting the kettle on the fire, "Still two sugars?" he asked, getting some mugs out. England smirked as he took a seat at the table, sliding the large packet over to the other side,

"No, just the one now, thank you Angus." He replied, looking over to Canada, who was trying not to laugh at the sudden change in his uncle's mood. It was at this point that America came down the stairs, having got a fresh set of warm clothes on. Well, he actually tumbled down the stairs after the haggis decided to go and greet the nation. America muttered darkly as he stumbled into the kitchen only to be greeted by an overly enthusiastic Scotsman,

"Nice o' ye to join us America," he called, "D'ye mind getting mair wood fer this fire?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye. America glared at him,

"No, you can go get it yourself." He snapped, knowing exactly where this was heading. Scotland pouted,

"Aww come on wee one, surely ye cannae grudge an auld man some help?" he wheedled. America wavered a little before Canada piped up as well,

"Come on Alfred, it _is_ coming up to Christmas and uncle Scotland isn't as young as he once was..." England just chuckled as Alfred looked at his brother's face and caved,

"You two are evil incarnate." He muttered as he grabbed his bomber jacket and the axe from next to the back door and went outside. Scotland took a satisfied drag of his cigarette as he locked the back door,

"Noo the idiot's oot the road, who's up fer a game o' cards?" he asked, grabbing a deck he kept on the windowsill and shuffling it. England and Canada looked at each other, laughed and nodded.

...

_A few hours later_

England blinked as the lights suddenly flickered into life,

"Ah, that will be the power back on then." He noted. America looked around him with glee,

"At last! Hot water!" he exclaimed as he rushed out of the kitchen to go and take a much needed shower, only to trip up over the now very ill looking haggis {not that he could see it}. The young nation gathered himself up and laughed,

"I meant to do that." He said sheepishly as the rest of the family sat at the kitchen table, laughing their backsides off. Scotland shook his head,

"That's whit ye get fer rushin' aboot. He said, "But ye can hae the first go at the shower since ye're so eager." He said. America cheered as he started his rush up the stairs again. England gave his brother a confused look,

"You're never that generous Scotland, has the whisky gone to your head already?" he asked. Scotland shook his head, a slightly evil smirk on his face,

"Oh no, I'm still perfectly sober easily," he replied, "But the wee one's forgotten that the water heater's only just come on." There was a strangled yelp of "COLD!" from the bathroom. England sighed and put his hand on his face in embarrassment on his 'son's' behalf, while Canada and Scotland just sat there laughing once again. All in all the day had turned out not quite so bad as England had imagined, though he still shuddered to think of what the other nations were going to say about his transport system over Christmas at the next world meeting.


End file.
